See? I told you I'd get this posted for the new year! This chapter's a lot longer to make up for the last one. Just a little note about this chapter before we begin: Aside from the warning that there is a considerable amount of violence and blood in this chapter, I'm not a doctor, so if the injuries I describe are waaaaay off, then try to be nice about it, okay? Biology wasn't my best class last year. Anyway, enjoy and please review! –Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*
I don't own Gundam Wing. But I do own everything else. So don't steal it or I'll sic the Christmas leftovers in my fridge, which are already taking their very first steps, on you!
*****
By the movement of the sun, Mortis Gour decided it had been an hour. Triumphantly, he raised himself from his chair and plucked his staff from where it stood, unaided, in the middle of the floor.
He had warned them. Gour gave the staff a brisk twirl to warm himself up. Perhaps I'll fill the halls with liquid fire and listen to the little beggars scream, he thought idly. Or perhaps molten lead? I like molten lead. The mage suddenly smiled like a snake. After I get my pick of the wenches, of course. Who knows? Having a lizard-woman could very well prove to be quite interesting.
A brisk knock at the door made the black mage look over. "Enter!" he called, irritated at the hold up. Hopefully, the visit would be quick. Gour had a busy afternoon ahead of him.
A pair of handsome identical young men came in. Gour surveyed their odd clothing with regal disgust. Peasants, probably. "Well, what is it?" The black mage gripped his staff irritably. "If it's about begging for another hour…."
"On behalf of Walker, lord of Alaryan's Keep," one of them -an impertinent-looking fellow with yellow streaked into the bangs of his deep auburn hair- said, "your offer of a duel by magic has been accepted."
"Really…." A minor delay. Nothing more. He gestured at the young man like a king would gesture to his lowest of servants. "Bring him to me."
"On the contrary, sir, he is already been kept waiting for about a quarter of an hour now." The young man barely suppressed a smirk. "You'll have to go and see him."
Mortis Gour bristled at this sleight, but kept his visage calm. "Bring me to him, then."
"Righty-o, O Great Magical One!" The yellow-red-haired twin chirped, drawing himself up.
"You dare mock me, boy!?" Gour roared.
"Who? Me? Nooooo…." Wide-eyed, the yellow-red-haired twin clasped his hands in front of him. Behind him, the other twin, who had said nothing the entire time, looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh and strangle his brother at the same time. Yellow-red-hair grinned at Gour. "Shall we?"
Impertinent fellow, Gour decided, allowing himself to be lead from the apartments. I'll kill him last.
*****
The field in front of the Keep wall was like any other in the area. It was covered in short, scrubby grass, cropped close by hungry livestock and faded to shades of dingy brown by chill weather. The occasional boulder broke the monotony, but other than that and the occasional herd of sheep, nothing very interesting ever happened in it.
It was in this field that enough power to destroy two solar systems stood face-to-face, ready to do battle.
Mortis Gour stood ramrod straight with regal conceit, his full black robes billowing in an unseen headwind. His hands gripped loosely his ten-foot staff, it's finely-carved runes glowing with tightly reined power. Quiet tinkling bore testament to the many magical amulets on his belt. He grinned. "Ready yourself, play-mage!"
Not more than twenty feet away, Walker stood, his body compacted into a low defensive stance. His own maroon robes billowed around him, the fire embroidery at the hems writhing like actual flame. Not charms or amulets wreathed Walker's waist and his hand remained empty. Despite having been unconscious in an isotube no less than an hour ago, Walker was erect and reasonably alert. Only his voice revealed just how weary he truly was.
"We'll see," was all he said.
*****
High above, away from the action, the balconies Alaryan's Keep were packed with the multicoloured masses of humans, Bhaarliads and miscellaneous. Standing on the balcony to his office, Zach stroked his chin, waiting impatiently for the battle to begin. Most of the other wizards, Belle and Nat's wife Iondra stood with him. Peering over at the larger balcony below, he could see his daughter and son-in-law, seven-foot Ali not needing to strain to see over various heads. His grandchildren –save for Walker- were nowhere to be seen, as were Gil's children. Zach caught himself in the thought, amused that he already thought of them as such.
"They're about to begin!" Iondra -a fiery-eyed sorceress with an ageless face and a thick mane of raven hair- shouted, using magic to augment her voice. "Put up the shields!" she ordered.
Zach braced himself as a seemingly paper-thin protective shell spread itself like oil on water up and over the entire Keep and its grounds. This was followed by much groaning and pinching of the bridge of the nose from the wizards. The magical fallout was minimal and obviously much preferred to being blown to smithereens, but it still managed to hand out a mother's mother of a headache.
"Are the dreamdrops set up?" Zach asked of Belle over his shoulder. Belle nodded, a ring of the iridescent drops wreathing her head. If Zach squinted right, he could almost make out the shimmer and wink of the twins to Belle's dreamdrops catching the light of the noonday sun. Ready to begin, Belle made a gesture with two fingers. A whirring from the dreamdrops around her told Zach they had begun recording. Two copies would be made and later studied, one directly on the battlefield and another copied from the first, up on the balcony of Zach's office.
The elderly First Minister sighed and silently wished his grandson Godspeed.
All was ready for battle.
*****
Back down on the battlefield, the battle was set to begin. The rules had already been decided upon: magical "shots" were to be fired in turns, no inclusion of innocents, no "accidental" Keep smashing. Pretty standard stuff. All there was left to do was figure out the order of turns.
"Who shall fire first?" Mortis Gour asked, lightly fingering his staff. The runes glowed under the subtle pressure of his fingers. "Pick quickly, mageling."
Great. Walker rolled his eyes, not caring if Gour saw. A tightass. Discreetly, he rolled his shoulders a bit, trying to ease about a week's worth of stiffness out of them. To be totally honest, he wasn't looking forward to the impending duel. One minute he recalled being in his apartments getting ready for dinner and the next he found himself waking up in an incubator, Dulcet hurriedly unsnapping and disconnecting tubes and wires and explaining to his foggy patient that there was some pompous mage that needed a good stomping. Why me? he groaned to himself. I don't want to play with him! All duty and jurisdiction aside, what Walker really wanted to do was go to bed and hibernate for a few nice, quiet weeks.
Still, Walker had to admit the fact that he was up and conscious was nothing short of genius. At that exact moment, Darien was lying in his apartments, deep within the throes of a controlled coma being monitored by Dulcet. His energy was being transmitted to Walker, although the supply was indeed limited.
"Well!?" The impatient voice of the other mage rudely yanked Walker from the land of his thoughts.
"Huh? Oh. Yeah. The duel. Right." Walker licked his lips and shook his hands to be sure they were free in his sleeves. "You can start if you want."
An evil smile grew upon Gour's weasel face. "So be it, mageling."
I wish he'd stop calling me that. Walker sighed and readied himself to deflect a small attack. Traditionally the first few attacks were simply to feel the opponent out, so Walker did not feel that he had to worry. Well, onwards we go.
The rival mage took his hands from his staff, leaving it to stand on its own. Meticulously, he spread his fingers and began to pull his hands away from each other while his voice began to drone a deep, hissing chant. Form where he stood, Walker could see the oily, dark strands of black magic stretching between them. Slowly, carefully, Gour began to weave them together, hands and voice picking up speed as he went on. A sudden jolt of surprise shot through Walker, neatly spearing his boredom. The web of magic grew around his opponent and began sliding outward to encircle him. This wasn't a simple "feeling out" spell! The sky began to darken overhead as the web spread over the two men and fused into a solid dome. A feeling of pure dread began to fill the younger mage as all light was slowly blotted out.
"Oh, shit…."
Gour's voice sounded smug in the darkness. "Indeed." A loud, painful grinding told Walker the dome was expanding. Inside it, even with his advanced senses, Walker could see nothing. "Welcome to my first spell, mageling."
"Thanks," Walker said dryly to the darkness.
"No need to be saucy. What's say we make this into a game?" Gour's voice was full of sick joviality.
"Like chess you mean?" Walker made to move his foot and realised there was nothing there to stand on. Irately, he allowed himself to float.
"Of course! And just to make it interesting, why not add some pawns?"
Oh, no, Walker's heart dropped.
"Mmmm…" Gour made a show of thinking. "Perhaps this group?"
The confused voices of the ex-pilots filled Walker's ears. Instinctively, he tried to use his magic, only to find it unsurprisingly locked out of reach. A bitter taste invaded Walker's mouth. Dammit! Why did I underestimate him?
"Ahh. They seem interesting. But more is better." The voices of Walker's two oldest sisters joined the fray. "Much better."
"Bastard!!"
"Perhaps. But let's not bring my parents into this." The utter blackness seemed to smirk. "For that little sleight, I suppose I'll widen our little circle of friends."
A furiously shouting man's voice that Walker did not know assaulted his ears.
"So, now that we have the pawns, here are the rules." The older mage's voice had suddenly gone silky, cutting him to the bone. "A fight to the death. If you can find me and kill me, then you win." The voice laughed, cutting Walker to the bone. "But don't forget your little friends." The utter blackness began to lift, chased away by piercing white light.
"Let the games begin."
*****
The first thing Tama noticed as she began to come to was heat. First came the oppressive, sticky heat of the jungle surrounding her. Secondly, she noticed the body heat of two teenage boys lying on top of her. Groaning, Tama sat up, shoving Duo's legs off her chest and picking Wufei's arm off her stomach. Moaning, she stood up, cracking various joints and vertebrae.
"What the hell happened?" she groaned. More groaning came behind her as Duo and Wufei unfolded themselves and stood up.
"Agh, I dunno," Duo groaned, leaning over to pop a crick in his back.
Wufei sniffed the air, reminding Tama for a moment of a very short-fused bloodhound. "Well, obviously, it's hot and humid and judging by the vegetation-"
"We're not in Kansas anymore," Tama finished for him.
The boys looked blankly at her.
"Never mind." Tama glanced up at the tall trees above her. The tiny patches of sky were stained golden pink, stabbed with the barbed spears of trees. The sun was just rising in this forsaken place.
"Okay. Right." Tama pulled her battleaxe from her sub-space pocket, giving it a few warm-up swings. "Let's take a look around."
Duo and Wufei nodded in assent, both pulling guns from Hammer Space. There was a silken hiss as Wufei flicked out his sword, cleaving the air. Grim, humourless smiles were splayed over their young faces. Tama was suddenly struck by how old they looked. Wufei squinted down the edge of his blade, checking the sharpness. Satisfied, he stuck the gun in his waistband. "Let's go," he said.
"Not so fast." Tama reached into her pocket and fished out a small violet gem. Casually, she dropped it on the ground and crushed it under her heel. Upon lifting her foot, the red haired woman inspected the powdery yellow remains of the gem and whistled. "Daaaaamn. This place is full of magic." She shook her head. "This is seriously not a good situation."
"What was your first clue, genius?" Duo snorted.
Abruptly, Tama feinted at him, swinging hard with her axe, making him leap back. "Rule number one, braidy-boy: don't piss off the uber-bitch with the huge-ass axe."
"Well, sor-ry."
The red haired woman rolled her eyes. "Come on. We have to see if there are any others here. Stay on your guard."
And so, as the trio –the Solitary Dragon, the Great Shinigami, and the Uber-Bitch- set out into the steamy jungle.
*****
"Ugh… I think I can taste the air." Quatre moaned and sat up. Trowa and Heero were already standing over him. Trowa gave him and hand up. Quatre thanked him and then, almost automatically, he sampled the area for signs of other people. Tama, Wufei and Duo were a few miles westward and Ria was just coming to not more than ten miles south of them. Roth, who Quatre just barely knew, was somewhere far off. Carefully, Quatre tried to catch up to Walker's mind, but all he got was mental static. So…Walker was covering his tracks. Mortis Gour's residue was all over the place, making him impossible to pinpoint. Suddenly, a small, icy shiver crawled its way up his spine. There were other…things out there, too. Dark things. Evil things. Things Quatre hoped and prayed they would never meet up with.
Abruptly, he snapped his eyes open. "We have to keep moving," he said. "We're not alone here." Trowa and Heero shrugged and nodded. Immediately, on Quatre's instruction, they moved south-west to find Ria and eventually Tama, Duo and Wufei. Also on Quatre's advice, they had their guns out, wary of every movement and strange sound. Still, even with a gun in his hand, Quatre did not feel entirely safe. Something was out there, and it thirsted for their blood.
*****
The sun had already began her descent into the sky by the time Walker managed to seek out Gour's scent trail. Relatively speaking, it had been quite simple. The arrogant man's clothing was all but drenched in heavily perfumed oils and the stuff he used to slick back his hair by itself was enough to track on alone. But among the clots of strong-smelling flowers and rancid-sweet rotting vegetation, Walker's sense of smell was heavily assaulted on all fronts.
"He's a dead man," Walker snarled, keeping his nose to the scent trail. "How dare he use innocents!"
Pawns, Gour had called them. He called the ones Walker loved "pawns" and cast them into a wild land of trolls and dragons and lord only knew what else. And only for fun!
The world could easily make do without such a mage.
A harsh, guttural roar from far off made Walker prick his ears momentarily before continuing on. Troll. Probably celebrating the discovery of fresh quarry.
*****
"What the hell is that!?!?!" Duo all but screamed as the eight-foot behemoth lumbered towards them. It was like a walking, grunting, muscle with a gigantic spiked club.
"Troll," Tama said tersely, putting her axe in a better defensive position in front of her body. "Looks like a juvenile."
"Juvenile?!?!" Duo cried. "Holy shit!" His thoughts skipped back to a fairy story Sister Helen used to tell him before bedtime back on L2. The troll in that story was a warty, froggy thing that stood at a jolly three feet tall. This thing was more rocky than froggy, more heavily-muscled than warty and it most certainly wasn't three foot nothing or jolly. But there was one rather more pressing detail Duo noted above all others: this thing was real.
"Keep your voice low!" Tama hissed. "The last thing we want is for it to get upset. Here." She tossed a short spear from her sub-space pocket to Duo, who caught it awkwardly. "The sound of that gun'll just make it mad. With that thing at least you can try to intimidate it."
"Lovely."
Wufei inched up next to Tama. "Where are its weak spots?" He asked softly, keeping one onyx eye trained on the troll, which had stopped about six metres away and was staring blankly at them. It was like a monster crudely carved from a boulder. The troll's head was small, set with tiny, piggish eyes and a jutting brow ridge. Thick, heavily muscled arms hung down to its knees, an enormous spiked club clutched in one fist. The troll's entire body was armoured in thick slabs of rock, making it seem impossible to do it any real harm.
Tama merely shook her head. "Only in the joints, and their pretty well armoured in themselves."
"Damn."
A thud got their attention. The troll had dropped its club. Something akin to concentration seemed to dawn in the tiny eyes. Slowly, it inched forward, chest thrust out, slamming its rocky fists together. Tama groaned.
"He's got us marked." She snarled softly. "He's claiming us as his next meal."
The charge came hard and fast, shocking even Tama with its bone-shattering speed. With a single swing of its massive arm, the three were scattered wide. Tama felt her body jar as her axe caught in the troll's stony armour, her arms and legs jerking as the troll shook the minor irritation off. Swiftly, the fire haired woman rolled with the strike and got to her feet, only to watch in horror as the behemoth snatched Duo from the ground and began shaking him like a rag doll. Though his head snapped back and forth, he remained tortuously silent, trying to keep from enraging the troll. For now, it was merely playing; curious, carefree and horribly brutal.
"Duo!"
Tama's eyes flew open at the raw, genuine concern in Wufei's voice. Good lord, he's scared for Duo's safety.
"Bastard!!" Screaming curses in Mandarin, Wufei rushed the troll, sword flashing in the dim jungle light, heedless of what little effect it would have on such thick stony skin. Dully, the troll stopped shaking its prey to stare at the tiny Chinese boy coming towards him. With an almost bored ease, the troll tossed Duo –now shaken into unconsciousness- at his feet and plucked Wufei up in mid-bound. The boy was minuscule in the giant's hand, struggling and shouting, but to no avail.
The troll hissed menacingly at him, not pleased with such a tiny threat.
Please, Wufei, Tama prayed. Please stay still. I can't help you now.
But the Solitary Dragon, enraged by his capture, continued to struggle and kick as the troll stared on, a more that mildly irritated expression coming to light on its craggy face. Suddenly, one of Wufei's kicks hit home, digging a heel deep into the monster's piggish eye. Immediately the troll's irritation flared into savage rage. Throwing back its head the monster bellowed, the harsh, booming roar gouging its way into Tama's ears. Enraged, the troll tossed Wufei into the air and caught him, one hand around the shoulders, another around the ankles, holding him like some sort of helpless toy. Without breaking the motion, the monster raised Wufei high over its head and slammed him, spine down over his knee.
The sharp, wet crack was horrendous and even Tama, from where she stood, could hear it.
Negligently, the troll dropped Wufei in a heap at its feet and picked Duo up again, dangling him by the arms. The Great Shinigami was still unconscious, which seemed to delight the troll even more as it watched his head loll lifelessly back and forth on his shoulders.
No. NO! Not him too! Tama's leg muscles snapped taut before she was even aware she was doing, throwing herself forward, her axe flashing dully in the dim jungle light. "Damn you!!"
Angrily, the troll seized Duo's arms in a tighter grip and began to pull, wrenching them in their sockets. The vicious pain made Duo's eyes snap open and a scream of utter torture was ripped from his lips.
Immediately, Tama stopped. The troll, now satisfied, stopped pulling and returned to dangling Duo about like a rag doll.
Shit. Tama watched helplessly as Duo's eyes with their irises like violet pools filled with pain and looked down at Wufei's flanks moving weakly with his breathing, trying desperately to cling to life. It's smarter than I thought.
"Very good, girl," A voice rang out from nowhere. "I see you've learned when to give up."
Tama stiffened. She knew that voice. That arrogant, stomach curdling voice. "What do you want, mage?"
There was almost a coy laugh. "Why, to watch the fun, my little wench. I'm simply biding my time until I decide to kill your brother."
"Bastard!!" Before her, the troll began to snarl, confused by the disembodied voice. "Eat shit and die!!"
The voice actually tsk tsk-ed at her! "Now look at what you've done."
"What? What have I done?"
The laugh sounded again, delighted in its own treachery. "Why, you just gave me a reason to kill your little friend."
The voice cackled again, mocking Tama's helplessness as the troll wrenched Duo's arms from their sockets and flung him screaming into the bole of a tree, only to fall limply at its base. With sudden blinding speed the troll rounded on Tama, slapping her axe away and cuffing the side of her head with one enormous palm. Stunned, the young fighter was thrown to the ground, the troll looming hugely over her. Weakly, Tama tried to get to her feet, but found she couldn't move her arms and legs. Something unseen was holding her down. Silently, she cursed Mortis Gour, feeling his magical bonds confining her.
Grimly, she watched as the troll approached her, it's eight-foot bulk heaving, its piggish eyes gleaming in horrible glee. The club was back in its hand and it looked ready to strike for the first and last time.
I see, Tama thought, suddenly struck with heart-wrenching grief and shame for not having saved her friends.
So be it.
The troll raised the club and charged and in one small moment Tama Broman's world became cloaked in sticky red.
*****
Oh, lord…
From his perch on the balcony, Zach stared in sick horror at the picture the dreamdrop hovering by Belle's hairline displayed.
No…not the children…no…
The balconies wreathing the Keep were abuzz with shocked chatter and quiet crying as the news made its rounds. While duels –friendly and otherwise- were almost the norm by Keep standards, the rules strictly stated that no bystanders could be included for any reason. Angrily, Zach whirled back to glare at the huge black dome of pure evil magic humming faintly on the field below.
Damn you, he cursed silently, frustrated with his helplessness against such powerful magic.
"What's going on?" Belle asked calmly, though her face was dead white and her mahogany eyes were wide with concern at Zach's behaviour. "What's happening to my boys?"
Zach simply stared at her. She has no idea. Because she was taking care of the dreamdrops, Belle was unable to see the battle below. "Nothing. They're all okay," the elderly wizard managed to choke out. "The stress of the battle is just getting to me, I suppose." It's for the greater good, Zach, he reassured himself.
Of course, seeing the relief flooding Belle's face before she closed her eyes to maintain her concentration on the dreamdrops in the field, Zach realised the words didn't reassure him in the least.
*****
Back in the jungle, Trowa and Heero were furiously trying to bring around Quatre, who had collapsed without warning in mid-sentence. Shouting, shaking and even slapping the senseless empath did nothing to wake him and the other two boys were getting desperate.
"Come on, Quatre, wake up!" Trowa said hoarsely, Quatre's numerous warnings of something sinister in the jungle surrounding them ringing in his mind. He shook the blond Arab's alarmingly still form. "Wake up!"
"It's not going to work." Heero's voice cut into Trowa's pleas, cold and sharp and clear. "Either we leave him somewhere relatively safe and find the others or we take him with us and find somewhere to stay until he wakes up." Trowa noted that Heero refused to call it "hiding". The Perfect Soldier's Prussian eyes flicked warily around the tiny clearing they were in. "I don't like being this vulnerable."
"Mm." Trowa nodded, already hefting Quatre like an oversized rag doll. "Let's find a place to stay. I don't trust this place."
By the time they found a suitable place to stay, the noonday sun was beginning its long descending journey to the horizon. It was your basic cave, wide and low ceilinged with its own sable night concealed deeper within, despite the warm daylight that just barely made it through the canopy. On the upside, it was wonderfully cool in contrast to the sweltering heat outside and sheltered, much like any perfectly acceptable cave should be. (Besides, what's a fantasy story without at least one cave which happens to be excellent for hiding in?) Still carrying Quatre, Heero and Trowa moved in.
"It'll do," Heero commented dryly, prodding something which looked like a dried-up animal bone with the toe of his sneaker. "Looks like we're not the first ones to stay here."
"Guess so." Trowa laid Quatre on the smooth cave floor, wishing it wasn't so cold.
Sighing, Heero sat on his heels, leaning against the chilly cave wall. "Any change?"
"Nope." Trowa shook his head and sat next to him. "At least he's breathing okay."
"Yeah. Not bad." Having nothing better to do, Heero pulled a soft cloth from Hammer Space and began to polish his gun with it. "Not bad."
"Uh, Heero?"
"Hn?"
The Perfect Soldier raised his head and sampled the air. The scent of rotten eggs assailed his nose. "Yeah. I do."
"Like the gas stove at home sometimes?"
"Mm. Probably a hot spring further into the cave or something." He waved a vague hand in the direction of the depths of the cave and went back to polishing his gun.
"Then why do I hear breathing?"
*****
"Get up."
Tentatively, Tama opened her eyes. A man, tall and gaunt against the dim jungle light, stood before her, cloaked in thick scarlet blood, almost violent in its hue. The troll lay scattered in pieces all over the clearing. Feeling as though she would retch from the stench of the ugly thing's blood, Tama stared stupidly at her saviour, trying to comprehend what happened. A glance at her hands showed she was also covered liberally in gooey crimson blood.
The man was in no mood to wait for her to puzzle the situation out. He prodded her hard with a sticky red boot toe. "I said get up, bitch."
Swaying slightly –and wondering whether or not this man was going to be any better a captor than the troll- Tama got to her feet. "Wha…."
"A troll was attacking you. I killed it." The man jerked his head in the direction of the spots where Duo and Wufei lay, the braided boy having been moved somehow to lie next to Wufei. A familiar woman's shape was tending them.
"The brats are in bad shape," the man went on. "I say leave them, but she won't." He jerked his thumb at the shape, now kneeling by Wufei and stroking his face. The woman leaned back and shook her hair out, allowing her face to come into the dim light. Tama's heart leapt as she saw the face.
"Ria!" Tama lurched to her sister's side, sobbing with relief. "Ria, I tried to help. I-"
"I know you tried, honey. I know. Oh, lord, you have no idea how glad I am to see you're okay." The Healer paused to lean over a drop a thank-goodness-you're-alive-kiss on the one flesh-coloured spot on the warrior's cheek and handed her a handkerchief to scrub her face with. "Tama, we're in a really bad situation here. The clearing is too open, but there's no way we can move the boys." Under her hand, Wufei's face twisted in agony. Carefully, Ria stroked his lips and cheeks, sending him under again. "My magic's far too limited to heal them here. I can only keep them quiet and reasonably stable."
"What's wrong with them?" Still scrubbing the blood from her face, Tama kicked herself. Great question, Captain Obvious.
Ria's youthful face hardened as she grimly went down the list. "Wufei's spine was snapped about two-thirds of the way down his back and the muscles in his stomach, chest, thighs and sides are all torn from his being bent over like that. If there's any internal damage, then I haven't found it yet. The bones connecting Duo's arms to his shoulders were pulled right out of their sockets, all the muscles in his chest, shoulders and arms are shredded and he has a major concussion." She wiped the back of her neck. "And this freaking heat isn't helping at all, either." The Healer looked urgently at her sister. "We need to get them home, Tama. They need proper care."
"I know. Who's Mr. Sunshine over there?"
"Don't know much about him. He came over the Bond recently and I haven't had a chance to learn anything about him before today." Ria picked up a large leaf by her knee and nervously began to shred it. "He says his name is Roth." Shred, shred. "I don't trust him."
Abruptly, Tama realised that Roth carried no weaponry of any kind. "How… how could he…? How did he…? That's not…. But, even my axe couldn't…." She finished with a bout of frantic pointing at the various troll bits littering the ground finishing with a point to her axe, the blade of which was chipped from turning on the stony skin.
"I don't know."
"Hey. Bitches."
"Quite the ladies' man, isn't he?" Tama grumbled wryly. "What do you want?" she called to the gaunt man, who had not even bothered to wipe any of the stinking blood from his face.
Roth was looking up at the sky, watching with apparent boredom as columns of darkness slashed up the afternoon sky. "Looks like the magic men have met up."
Tama looked up just in time to see a shaft of fire shoot high into the sky, leaving a violet shadow in its wake. She bit her lip.
Oh, Walker…
*****
"Nnnh…"
"Heero, he's coming to."
Heero stood, ignoring the complaints of various muscles which had cooled into what they thought were more pleasant positions, thank you very much, and made his way to where Trowa was helping Quatre stand up. "You okay?"
"Whuck…?" His voice still thick with still only being half-awake, the blond Arab swallowed hard and tried again. "What's going on?"
"You fainted." To the point as always, Heero hooked his hands under Quatre's armpits and hefted him to his feet. "So we brought you here."
"Ah." Gingerly, Quatre put a hand to his head and leaned heavily on the cave wall. "I just remember being fine and then feeling like someone took a sledgehammer to my chest and then I woke up here." He glanced around. "Where are we, anyway? And what's that nasty smell?"
"Doesn't matter where we are. We're still lost. We have to get going, though." Trowa glanced over his shoulder into the depths of the cave. "There's a bear or something living in here."
Quatre shut his eyes. Then they popped open. And remained popped. "Uhhhh, guys?"
"Hn?"
"That's not a bear." A long, slow rasp, like the rubbing of massive scales upon massive scales emerged from the depths of the cave, followed by a low, sleepy groan.
Quatre shut his eyes again, his face set in the expression of a schoolboy trying to remember the previous day's lessons. "Gil was teaching me a bit about this. By the sound of it, it could still be groggy." He moved towards the opening of the cave. "We have to get out of here before it wakes the rest of the way up."
The other two followed him. "Before what wakes up?" Trowa queried, stepping over the bone Heero had kicked at earlier.
"Dragon." The blond boy shook his head. "I wish I'd paid more attention. I don't know a lot, but I do know that they're normally sleepy."
A screaming, spine-shattering roar made the boys as one man fall to their knees. Slow, rhythmic thudding approached them. Footsteps of a cranky dragon.
"Sleepy, huh?" Heero vaulted to his feet and tripled his pace.
"I said normally sleepy! Normally!" Quatre cried, sprinting after him.
"Shut up and run!" Trowa called and began to run as well. The vibrations of the dragon's monstrous footfalls shook the floor beneath them and the overpowering stench of sulphur bubbled from the depths of the cave.
As he ran, Quatre frantically ran over the mental list of facts Gil had told him lately about dragons. "Most dragons are over twenty feet long." "They hatch from eggs." "Scale size ranges between dinner plate size and pebble size." Dammit! Didn't Gil teach me anything useful!?!? Okay, think harder. "Most dragons prefer to snatch grazing livestock to human prey, but will still attack if hungry or threatened." Oh, lovely.
The cave now being far off in the distance, the ex-pilots slowed their pace a bit to catch their breath.
"When hunting, most dragons prefer to use the stealthy approach, swooping in on unsuspecting pre- oh shit.
"DROP!!" Quatre screamed, throwing himself to the ground and scaring the wits out of the other boys, who nevertheless did the same. At that same instant, the dragon dove and struck out, its razor talons just barely ruffling Quatre's hair.
Screaming in rage, the dragon wheeled in mid-flight over the canopy, giving the boys their first real glimpse of its graceful body and gleaming ivory scales radiating terrible beauty before striking again.
This time Quatre could feel dagger-like claws scratching minuscule furrows into the skin of his back.
"Run for cover!" Trowa shouted, bolting for the denser tree cover of the jungle.
The boys ran as best they could, skirting open areas, ducking tree limbs and tripping over logs and vines, but even as the sound of the dragon grew faint and disappeared, a nagging feeling kept nibbling at the back of Quatre's mind.
Don't dragons breathe fi-
WHOOOOOOOMPHHH!!!
Suddenly, the tree cover didn't seem to cover very much anymore.
Thanking his lucky stars that the area around them was damp, Quatre grabbed the sleeve of the boy closest to him –Heero, he realised later- and dove for cover under an ancient fallen tree propped up against its own stump. Screaming, the dragon dove again, its claws scattering glowing shards of timber around them. Then, it was gone, wheeling up into the sky to try again.
Timidly, Quatre poked his head out from under the fallen tree. "Trowa?"
No answer greeted him.
"Trowa?"
Still nothing.
Petrified, Quatre scrambled from under the tree, burning his hands on the already-cooling embers on the damp ground. "Trowa!" he called. "Trowa!"
Coldly, Heero clapped a hand over Quatre's mouth. "Shut up. Don't give away our location."
The blond Arab nodded and silently continued searching. After a few heart-stopping seconds, a movement caught the corner of Quatre's eye. Picking his way along the small fires was Trowa.
"Trowa!" Quatre hissed.
The Silencer did not even look up.
Heero, his eyes darting about for signs of another dragon dive, walked briskly to the taller boy and grabbed his shoulder. Grunting in surprise, Trowa leapt away, his gun cocked, as soon as Heero's hand touched him. As soon as Trowa saw him, however, his emerald eyes grew wide with shock.
"Trowa, thank goodness you're okay," Quatre sighed, his ears straining for the sound of wind rushing over leathery wings. He grabbed Trowa in a tight hug, but almost immediately stepped back. The other boy's body was as stiff as wood. Quatre looked at him. The Silencer, his face dead white and his hands shaking wildly, had a look in his eyes that totally belied the calm expression on his face. Slowly, he shook his head.
"Trowa?"
Again a head shake.
Heero stepped behind Trowa and clapped his hands loudly next to his ear.
Trowa didn't notice.
Wide-eyed, Quatre took a step back. "No…" he managed before reaching out with his mind to brush against Trowa's. Almost instantly, a sharp, stabbing pain invaded his head and the world was draped in suffocating silence. Tears began to drip down his cheeks as he noticed the thin trails of blood wending their way down the sides of Trowa's head, almost invisible in the long shadows of the murky jungle light. "Trowa, no!" Sobbing, Quatre threw himself at Trowa, who stepped back in surprise.
"Trowa! No, Trowa! N-" It was about here that Heero's fist connected with Quatre's jaw. The blond empath hit the ground hard and rolled, coming unsteadily to his knees. Heero stood over him, his Prussian eyes like shards of blue ice.
"Stop it."
"But, Heero, Trowa's-"
"I know. He can't hear. He must have been too close to the dragon when it roared last." The Perfect Soldier leaned over and hauled Quatre to his feet. "We need to get Trowa out of here. He won't be able to hear if the dragon strikes again."
The Arab boy scrubbed a fist over his eyes. "Yeah. Sorry. You're right." He tilted his head back, gazing sadly at the sky, now visible through the charred treetops bare of leaves. "Let's go." Turning, Quatre took Trowa's wrist and began to lead him, keeping an ear open for anything. A moment later, his diligence was "rewarded" by an already all-too familiar screaming keen. Quatre's vision darkened for a split second as the dragon's shadow passed overhead and wheeled back. As one, the boys looked up.
Above them, the dragon wheeled back a second time and started into another dive. About halfway in, however, it faded from view. The three didn't even bother to question what happened and simply broke into a dead sprint, whatever ears that could straining for the sound of a diving dragon.
"Quatre," Heero said, still running. Amazingly, he didn't seem out of breath. "Get Trowa out of here. I'll lead the dragon off and meet you later."
"Are you insane!?" Behind Quatre, the dragon's keen split the sky.
"Yes." Plunging his hand into Hammer Space, Heero pulled his gun and cocked it. "Now go!"
Still running, Quatre said nothing for a moment before finally darting off into the bush with Trowa in tow, a silent prayer hovering unsaid on his lips.
Good luck, my friend.
*****
Bwaaaa! I'm evil, aren't I?
See you later and don't forget to review!
Ja ne, minna-san!
LPD *//.^*